


state of love and trust

by janie_tangerine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: (I suppose it qualifies), 5 Times, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Epic Bromance, M/M, Other, POV Outsider, Platonic Relationships, Romantic Friendship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 17:05:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>where (almost) everyone assumes that Robb and Theon are a thing. It's kind of more complicated than that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	state of love and trust

**Author's Note:**

> I originally started this as a kink meme fill for a prompt I totally lost which was along the lines of 'they have a ridiculous touchy-feely friendship and everyone assumes they're together' - aaand no, no angst here really. XD Title from Pearl Jam (even if that song is totally not suited to this context), nothing belongs to me, and throbb week fic five. There, I'm done.

1.

“You can’t tell me that they _aren’t_ a thing,” Ygritte whispers as she stares across the room.

Jon sighs, looking in the same direction - not that he doesn’t suspect who is she talking about.

Right. Totally on point. His brother and Theon are sitting on the sofa, attached to the hip as usual. Robb is discussing something with a couple of friends of Arya’s, probably the results of the rugby championship, and Theon is pretending not to give a damn and interrupts every once in a while, but at the same time his side is always in contact with Robb’s, Robb’s hand is more or less always touching him - he has it on Theon’s knee right now, but it has skimmed on his hip and his thigh, and the thing is that they don’t even seem to do it consciously.

“They say they aren’t,” Jon shrugs.

“Are you serious? _You_ aren’t half as touchy-feely with me and we are a thing.” She gropes his ass for good measure and Jon tries not to blush at once.

“Yeah, well, they’ve pretty much always been like that. I mean, they’ve been doing that since they were what, seven?”

“And they still aren’t a thing?”

“I don’t exactly go ask them! And even if they were I sure as hell don’t want to know the details.”

“Aw, you’re adorable, you know?”

“I’m not -“

“You know nothing,” Ygritte declares before she grabs his drink from his hand, puts it on the table and proceeds to kiss him right in the middle of the room.

“Woah Snow, what’s with the PDA?” Theon asks him from across the room, while Robb still has his hand on his knee.

Right, Jon thinks, what a hypocrite.

Sansa’s birthday party goes on for another two hours. Whenever he glances at those two, they’re still touching all over the place, which is plenty ridiculous because Theon’s been around the house for years by now and Jon has never ever seen him being a fan of the whole touchy-feely thing. Except with Robb.

Maybe Ygritte has a point, but he’s not going to be the one asking Robb. No. Never. But damn, they _are_ sickening.

2.

It’s not that Sansa hadn’t expected to find Theon in the house that evening - Robb did tell them that he was spending the night, not that he doesn’t spend it more times than not, but as she tries to be as silent as possible (it’s one AM and her parents are going to kill her if she wakes Rickon up at this time), she doesn’t expect to run into the two of them in the living room. She had assumed that they’d be holed up in Robb’s room doing whatever nineteen-year old guys do when they have sleepovers, but instead they’re watching some movie, keeping the volume low.

Except that no, _Robb_ is watching the movie. Theon is currently passed out, with his head comfortably pillowed on Robb’s thigh, and - Robb’s hand is carding through his hair?

Sansa tries not to coo out loud at them, because it’s frankly adorable, but she’s not sure that if she woke Theon up he’d be much happy to hear it. (She’s pretty sure that her brother wouldn’t give a damn either way.)

“Robb? Is everything fine?” She doesn’t think there’s a problem, but - just to be sure.

“Yeah. He kind of crashed a while ago, but we’re going up eventually. Don’t worry, I’m not spending the night on the sofa.”

“Better for your back. But - Robb, uh, are you two… you know… because you know you can tell us, right?”

Robb looks down at Theon, then up at her. “Flattered, but it’s not that. Don’t worry, sister, we’re not screwing.”

 _Yes, but you’re still petting his hair and you didn’t even attempt to stop_. “Whatever. Not that it’d be a problem if you were, but as you say. Good night, Robb.”

She’s grinning to herself as she leaves - Robb shrugs and goes back to watching whatever movie was on. Not screwing. For now, maybe, but let them be in denial, Sansa thinks as she goes back to her room. She totally has to text Jeyne about this so that they can analyze the situation properly next time.

3.

Arya is sitting in the living room table trying to make sense of her history homework when the doorbell rings. Robb yells that he’s coming from upstairs - must be Theon then. Nothing out of the ordinary. Robb walks down the stairs and goes to open the door - he’s smiling like some lovesick idiot, as usual.

He opens the door, and everything is as usual, and then _he kisses Theon’s cheek_ and no wait _he also kisses the other_ before letting him in.

Theon just gives him a shit-eating grin and tells him that he needs to use the bathroom, he’ll be back in a moment, and then he’s heading straight for it.

Arya blinks twice and momentarily leaves her homework be.

“Robb, you could have told us!”

“Told you what?”

Arya can’t believe that he sounds as if he genuinely has no clue of what she’s talking about. “What - you just _kissed_ him!”

“Oh. That. It’s not - _that_.”

“So what is it?”

“They do it all the time in France,” he answers with a shrug.

Right. Because the two of them have just gone to France for New Year’s. To _Paris_. Arya wants to gag just at the thought - they look as if they’re out of one of Sansa’s romantic comedies, and how do they even do it? And now since Robb decided that he liked this thing where French blokes kiss their best friends when they meet, they’re apparently kissing. Theon doesn’t seem to have much against it, though, even if she’s pretty sure that if Jon or anyone else tried it he wouldn’t let them do it.

Theon comes back a moment later and they disappear upstairs, and Theon totally has a hand on Robb’s back, and seriously, Arya thinks that married couples don’t do PDAs as much as those two idiots.

Well, if she ever accepts next time that Gendry asks her out, she’ll make sure that he doesn’t even attempt anything like that.

4\. 

“Isn’t that your brother?”

Asha looks up from her blissfully black coffee - seriously, how is _she_ taking the regular espresso when both Tris and Qarl are getting those ridiculous frappuccinos? They’re completely without dignity - and looks up at Tris.

“Where?”

“Second line.”

Right. That’d be Theon, and that’d be his Stark best friend forever and ever amen next to him. They’re looking at what the bakery section has to offer, and when it’s their turn Asha vows to herself to never, ever let slip to their father that Theon has just ordered a strawberry frappuccino _and_ a strawberry shortcake. That’d probably be enough to make them argue furiously for the next entire month and she’d really rather not be there to play peacemaker. She’s kind of surprised that Stark doesn’t get anything to eat, though.

“Are you sure that you two didn’t get the chromosomes wrong at birth?” Qarl jokes as Theon and Stark sit at a table on the opposite side of the room - they haven’t noticed them.

“Talks one who’s currently having a _hazelnut_ frappuccino.”

“At least it’s not pink.”

“Shut it, the two of you,” Asha says as a waiter brings their order to the table.

A moment later she understands why they ordered just one thing to eat - there are two forks next to the shortcake.

“… Since when is your brother into men?” Tris asks when the two of them start eating the thing, amiably sharing it.

“My brother never was into men,” Asha replies, but she’s starting to think that he must be at least into Robb Stark. Except that she’s asked that question countless times and the answer was always _no, and seriously, can’t two guys just be friends without screwing on the side?_

Also, other than being into Robb Stark, he also looks happier than she ever sees him being at home. Which is probably why he’s not at home much anymore, not that she doesn’t get why. The smile he’s giving Stark is nowhere near the fake one that’s always plastered on his face whenever he interacts with the rest of the world, and - well, good that at least it happens with someone.

“Seems to me like he is,” Qarl says. “Also oh dear, do they have the best friends split necklace thing? Seriously, he’s more of a girl than you ever will be. No offense, Greyjoy.”

“And even if it was the case? You two look like two old ladies exchanging gossip on the porch. Leave them be, they might be nauseous but they’re not hurting anyone, are they?”

That shuts the two of them up and as she finishes her coffee she wonders how long it’s going to take the other two to fess up. It’s not just her brother - it’s that Stark looks at him exactly the same way and while Asha knows that their father would be horrified at the prospect, she’s just happy that someone does look at her brother like _that_. As sickeningly sweet as it is. And as horrible as that half-red heart necklace that they’re both wearing is - she hopes for Theon that he never wears it over his shirt at home, but considering that she hasn’t noticed its existence until now, she supposes he’s been careful about it.

She’ll keep her mouth shut, and patience if he’ll never know that he owes her.

5.

“What?” Theon reads the piece of paper once, then twice, then looks back down at Wex. “I _don’t_ have a problem.”

Wex shakes his head and takes the piece of paper back from him, writes down _yes you do_ and _it’s written all over your face_ , then hands it over.

Theon scowls again. “I’m supposed to be explaining you some trigonometry, even if I had one I shouldn’t tell _you_ now.”

And fine, he has a point, except that since they actually started this tutoring thing (Theon lives next door and Wex has no clue of how his father knew that he was good at maths, but he had arranged it and actually - well, Wex knows that Theon is doing it for free, and he appreciates it, he really does) he doesn’t get it as wrong as before most of the time. As his latest batch of homework that Theon’s going through is proving.

He grabs another piece of paper from his notebook and writes down - signing would be a lot less complicated, but it’s not as if he can expect everyone to know how it works.

_But you already explained me where I went wrong and we already re-did those exercises, and you’ve been through the rest twice. You don’t really need to explain me much more now, do you?_

“Aren’t you a smartass,” Theon sighs, but Wex doesn’t blink - that’s just the way he talks, and he’s this close to cracking. Also he obviously didn’t mean it.

“Oh, whatever, not like you’re going to tell my dad, so what the hell.”

Well, Wex wasn’t going to tell Theon’s dad anything, technically. Also because other than Theon and Asha, no one living next door seems to like him much.

“It’s just, apparently the world has decided that I have a _thing_ for my best friend and everyone is pointing it out to me, and I just - can’t they just let us be? Seriously, we don’t have a thing. If we were both women no one would even bat an eyelid, but most girls I know can touch and hold hands and kiss each other on the cheeks and whatever stupid thing and there’s no problem, we do it and we must be screwing? God, don’t ever tell your dad I actually told you this or he’s going to have my head.”

Wex highly doubts that, but no point in repeating it.

_And even if you had a thing, why would that be a problem?_

Theon reads what he wrote on the bottom of his piece of paper, then raises both eyebrows as he looks down at him.

“Try telling my dad, then we can talk about it,” Theon mutters. “Or my brothers. Last thing I need is their opinion on the matter.”

Then his cellphone rings - Theon goes red for a moment as Wex recognizes the ring tone. It’s _Bridge Over Troubled Water_. He’s also pretty sure that Theon’s usual ringtone is some Led Zeppelin song, not that.

“Sorry, it’s gonna take a moment. Hey, Robb?”

Huh. The moment he says the name his mouth’s corners curl upwards, as if just talking with the person on the other side makes him ridiculously happy. “Yeah, I’m still here, in theory I should stay for another hour but we’re pretty much done. No, I don’t think so? What? Sure, I’ll ask, wait a moment.”

Then he looks down at Wex. “That’s - said best friend. He wants to catch the last Die Hard movie or something like that. You want to come?”

Wex doesn’t think that he needs to write down _what did you just ask me_ \- it’s probably written on his face.

“Why not? I know your dad isn’t coming back until late today, I was supposed to be here for another hour at least, the movie’s supposed to start one hour and a half from now and you probably earned yourself a break. Before you ask - yes, he’s totally cool with it, or it wouldn’t have been his idea.”

Wex gives him a tentative nod - it sounds like a better prospect than sulking on his own around the house because it’s not like he has friends at school to meet up with.

“Good. Hey, Stark, it’s a go. You’re dropping by in ten minutes? Okay, good, we’ll be ready.”

So, in the next three hours Wex gets what Theon had been complaining about. Well, in all honesty anyone who just looks at the two of them from the outside would assume that they’re a _thing_ \- they touch all the time, they kissed (cheek-kissing, sure, but) when they were saying hi, they have ridiculous in-jokes that Wex suspects they came up with years ago and they share the popcorn (but they got him his own bowl), but… Wex can’t really see what’s the big deal. They’re kind of adorable, not to mention that Theon loses that perpetual sulk that he never seems to manage to shake away whenever he’s with… well, anyone else really, and Robb looks at him like he’s the most important person in his life or some sappy stuff like that. Wex can’t really see why it should be a problem. Their business, especially if they look like things are good for them the way they are. Also he had been half-afraid that he’d feel put to the side, but that actually never happens (also it turns out that Robb knows a bit of signing so he actually can join the conversation without needing to write down novels on his notebook). It’s the nicest afternoon he’s had in ages. After Robb walks home the two of them (and he does the cheek-kissing thing before leaving, too), Theon looks at him leaving with something that can only be fondness.

Wex leaves him to it and grabs the notebook.

_He’s pretty cool._

The fondness doesn’t go away as Theon reads it.

“Yeah, well, I suppose I got lucky.”

Wex openly rolls his eyes before taking the piece of paper from him. He doesn’t give it to Theon until they’re back on their floor.

_He might have, too._

Theon’s cheeks legitimately go a bit red at that, and then he shakes his head. “Yeah, sure, tell yourself that. Come on, go home before your dad has a heart attack. And revise that shit about cotangents, I’ll see you in two days.”

He walks inside his own apartment a moment later. Wex shakes his head - two months of algebra tutoring were enough to make him understand that Theon is never going to accept some compliment (except maybe from Robb Stark, he supposes), but there’s no harm in trying. Maybe next time he could point out that even if he and Robb had in fact a thing it wouldn’t make any difference whatsoever.

\+ 1

“ _Ten_ people in one night. This has to be a record,” Theon mutters as he changes into his pjs. Robb thinks he knows what he means.

“Ten people what?”

“Asking me if we hooked up.” He shakes his head a couple of times before pushing the clothes he had at Jon’s birthday party into his backpack and climbing into Robb’s bed - business as usual. They stopped pretending to use the extra bed in Robb’s room years ago by now, not that Robb ever had a problem with it.

“Let them ask,” Robb says with a shrug as he scoots over a bit, making space.

“It’s a joke by now. I just don’t get why they all have to assume it.”

“That we’re a thing?”

“Why, we can’t be friends and do exactly the same shit that your sister and Jeyne Poole do regularly unless we’re a thing? I mean, for fuck’s sake, they spent half of the evening holding hands and giggling to each other, but no one went asking them if they hooked up.”

Robb thinks that he sort of gets what Theon’s fishing for here - he knows that he’s the only person with whom Theon does _the same shit his sister and Jeyne Poole do_ , and that he’s had girlfriends with whom he never touched in public, but it’s not like Robb ever put extra thought into the whole thing. He never gave a shit about whatever stuff guys aren’t supposed to do according to the book, and so what if he and Theon have the whole epic bromance shit going on, as Jon puts it?

Not to mention that whatever people say Theon is obviously not about to change things between them, since his head has just fallen against Robb’s shoulder and he has an arm around Robb’s waist.

“Double standard, huh?” He puts an arm around Theon’s shoulder - he was a bit tense a moment ago, but the moment Robb does it he’s not anymore.

“Why, Stark, you know any other way to put it? ‘Course it’s a fucking double standard.”

The point is that he’s actually right - if someone walked into the room just now they’d probably assume that they have a thing, but everyone in the house has walked on exactly the same scene starring his sister and Jeyne, and no one ever assumed the same. Robb isn’t even bothering to explain how it is anymore - it’s not like until now his efforts to explain that whatever is between them has gone far beyond labels a long time ago has worked.

“Let them ask,” Robb answers. He moves so that he’s lying on his side, actually facing Theon instead of just feeling his hair under his chin. “I mean, it’s - I thought about it, you know?”

“About the two of us being an item?”

“Yeah. And - it just doesn’t really change anything, I guess.”

“Meaning?”

Robb shrugs again, trying to put it into sensed words. “At some point I went and asked myself if things would change if we were screwing. Or french kissing. Or doing whatever it is that you’re supposed to do if you’re an item, not that we don’t do half of that in the first place. And the more I thought about it the clearer it was that it’d be the same. I mean, if I thought about doing that it didn’t feel weird, but it doesn’t feel weird if we don’t do that either. I love you, you’re the most important person in my life and I know that, so why should I stuff it in a box and put a label on it?”

“Same,” Theon answers a moment later, his voice kind of cracking on the word, but Robb doesn’t need to ask why. Damn, he had looked the same way when Robb had declared them best friends when they were seven or so, he knows that the idiot has issues with hearing people saying nice things about him. Which is also half the reason why he doesn’t give a shit about people complaining about their supposed PDAs - if Theon won’t hear it half of the time he’ll have to say it in other ways.

He wasn’t expecting Theon to grab his shoulders and haul him closer, but he’s quick to reciprocate at once - and yes, fine, if someone walked in on them they’d definitely label them boyfriends, but who cares. At this point it wouldn’t even be too wrong. Theon hums appreciatively when Robb’s fingers start threading through his hair, and Robb doesn’t even attempt to move away when Theon totally presses his cold feet against his own.

“Buy some socks, damn you,” Robb says, but he doesn’t even try to sound like he means it for real.

“You wish, Stark. Not when you’re a bloody heating system on legs.”

“As if. Whatever, I’ve known I was in for dealing with your stupid cold feet for a while.”

“Sure, Robb, love you too.”

Theon is most definitely grinning against his shoulder. Robb knows that he’s doing the same, and Theon’s feet are still too cold against his but it’s all right - he wouldn’t want it any other way.

End.


End file.
